My daughter told me she was proud of me. Tears in her eyes, her hand in mine, she said, “I’m proud of you, Mama.”

Let me start by saying that those words are not something I am used to hearing. Growing up, those words were never spoken. They were once something I longed to hear, like a gift I waited eagerly for but never received. After I married Jake, I began to hear this words a little more often from him and his family. Don’t get me wrong- I’m grateful for those kind words. But after going your entire life without hearing them, you really don’t know how to take those words in or how to let them reach your heart.

I’ve always known I wanted to be a mother from a young age. I knew, without a doubt, that I not only wanted to be a mother…I was called to be one. After Jake and I were married, I spent my days in whispered prayers, asking the Lord for children to call our own. And, after some time, those prayers took root and were answered with three little girls given to us to raise and a baby boy who is resting in Heaven.

Soon, those whisper prayers began to change and continued to change with each passing season of life. Prayers for a growing family soon turned into prayers of good health and safety for our sweet baby girls. Prayers for kind hearts and gentle spirits. Prayers for courage and strength. Prayers for good friends and continued safety.

Then, the never-changing prayer, the prayer that one day they will choose Jesus. That they will open their hearts to Him and accept Jesus as their Savior. That they will continue on their journey to Him and lead good lives that will bring glory to God.

I said I always wanted to be a mother. But an even deeper truth is that, more than anything, I desired to be a good mother. I wanted to be a mother they could be proud of. I was determined to be a peaceful refuge for my girls, a strong shelter from the world, a steady force that never wavers, an outpouring of love as deep as the ocean. I wanted to give them that and so much more.

What I didn’t expect is what they would give me.

My beautiful girls.

They are the home I always searched for. They are the healing I always needed. They are the peace I never knew. They have made me look at the world with new eyes.

The things that once haunted me no longer matter. The hurt that used to live in my heart doesn’t seem to have that same sting it once did. The heaviness I used to carry doesn’t seem to weigh me down anymore.

They rescued me.

I don’t claim to be the best mother. I don’t have it all together. I don’t know it all. There are moments when I lack patience, and I make mistakes. There have been times where I’ve questioned everything. Nights where I silently cried out to God, begging Him to help me be better. To help me be what they need. Moments where I questioned if I was cut out for this life.

But through all of the doubts and all of the questions, God was there to guide me. He was there to answer those silent prayers, to transform and rebuild me during hard seasons, to put me on the path to be exactly who I needed to be for my girls, and to whisper, “You were made for this.”

In all my doubts, I am certain of one thing, I am called to be their Mama. There is no mistake about it. He created me to be theirs, and they are my privilege.

I am called to speak love into their hearts and into their bones, to be a constant steady in a storm of chaos, to call upon the name of Jesus for them, to fight for them, to be a steady stream of peace for them.

God, I pray they hear ‘I love you’ so often that it echoes in their souls and in their bones for years to come. That coming home to me is a comfort. That they will find safety and shelter in my arms. I pray that they will be fully and wholly Yours.

Being their mama is the greatest calling of my life, a calling given to me by my Savior. My Savior, who thought of me when He created them. Who gave them to me because He knew I could take this job and do it well.